Fools' Gold
by Tuskface
Summary: When the force of darkness overwhelms the world, and Voldemort is on his way back into power, who you're friends with can be both a blessing and a curse. Just don't go into waters too deep if you can't swim...  M-rated for language.   Please review!
1. Prologue

**A/N: **Hi, guys. So I realised that I haven't written much fanfiction. Okay, so I've barely written any at all. Now, since I've been feeling inspired for quite some time, I thought I'd gift you with some hobby-writing that is extremely sentimental, very bad and probably going to be unloved forever. Either way, I hope you enjoy its pointlessness and actually get through it.

**Disclaimer:** I really don't own Harry Potter (but if you ever need me, Jo, I'm right here!). Also, thanks to Linkin Park for their music.

Reviews are better than the tears of Voldemort himself.

-Tuskface

Prologue  
><span>_'Somewhere I belong'_

The tension in the circle was tangible. The sketchy, black outlines of the five faces were set in an unsure contrast to the zebra-striped moonlight and the soft movement of the trees. The whites of their eyes glinted maliciously, knife points in the night.

Nobody was moving, mouths zipped closed against the cold weather. It didn't take long before the snow began to fall in large crystalline daggers, floating like feathers. Finally, the boy to her left twitched, just a slight spasm in his fingers. All of the dark orbs settled on that single jerk in the empty silence. Then, all of a sudden, the pressure seemed to be centred, to have found a focus in the leaden air. With an almost shaky breath, teeth sunken deep into her bottom lip, Duncan stepped forward. Her dark brow turned to those now behind her, expectant but at the same time smugly disappointed.

The moment had finally broken, the night was shattering - because this couldn't be it, the edge of the entire world. She had to choose now. Everything was going to change...

...Or would it stay the same?


	2. Opening

**A/N: **Good to see you again so soon. This chapter will probably make more sense than the last one (or at least I sincerely hope so). Took a lot of research before I got this about right, finally have some kind of plot tied down, too, which (of course) does help rather with these early chapters.

**Disclaimer: **Oh, Harry, how I wish you were my creation! Also I think I'd like to pay homage to Steve Vander-Ark and the entire HPL. You, my friend, are indebted one life from me. Also (for their inspirational purposes), thanks be to Avril Lavigne, Muse and Lily Allen.

Harry defeated Voldemort for reviews, you know (don't let him have done it for nothing).

-Tuskface

Chapter 1: Opening  
><span>_'Complicated'  
><em>Sunday February 22nd 1998.

Alexis Kiely was going to die.

And she had no possible means of escape.

...Except maybe one.

Draco Malfoy could save her.

But was it really worth it? And was she desperate enough to let him?

And more importantly - how did she get herself into a situation like this?

Friday September 1st 1995.

'Half an hour.' The compartment door slammed shut behind Virginia Valmary, as she slumped back into the nearest free seat and immediately began playing with her mousy brown hair. The others present glanced up at the news briefly, only to return their attention to the black haired girl lounging back on Callum Wilke's lap, where she was seated. She had in her hands a copy of a newspaper entitled "_The Daily Prophet_", and was reading aloud in a clear, mocking voice.

'..._attempting to force his way through a top-security door at one o'clock in the morning. Podmore, who refused to speak in his own defence, was convicted on both charges and sentenced to six months in Azkaban_.'

She scoffed and threw the paper to one side, exposing a black and white moving photo of a man in his late thirties, being led out of the frame.

'So it didn't work,' a boy with sandy hair said darkly.

'Are you saying you thought it would?' piped up the boy being sat on.

'No - just that..._measures_ should be taken to prevent things like this happening again. We need every bit of support we can get. And this is just blatantly obvious, and _very_ stupid.'

'Simon is right. They're making it bloody obvious what they're after, and where it is. If we're not careful...people we don't want to will work it out. Subtlety is the key, as they say. Now let me up, Wilke. We have to change. Nearly there.' The black haired girl, pulling Slytherin robes out from a trunk stored in the overhead compartment, nodded to Virginia, who didn't notice, deep in a whispered conversation with a blonde next to her, and still absently plaiting her own hair.

The rest of the compartment briefly became a mess of green-lined fabric and grey uniforms as everyone changed, filled with the rustling of clothes and small chatter. When finished, they all returned to their previous seats, and, silhouetted against the bright glow of the great castle now visible through the window, resumed their previous conversation.

Elsewhere on the red steam train, at the other end, almost directly behind the driver, sat a similar number of people, their compartment much more raucous than the previous.

'...and then they spent an entire four paragraphs on the shape and colour of his bowler hat!' A girl with a shock of brown ringlets said loudly, and the rest of the compartment broke down in giggles. '_And just look at that nose! Perfect with just the right amount of blusher - whoever his makeup artist is, they certainly know what they're doing. "I would've voted for Fudge ten times if I could have!" said one certain Dolores Umbridge, at the entrance to the Ministry of Magic_...'

'You've _got_ to be kidding, Dem,' a girl with straight dark brown hair choked out in between her own laughter.

'One hundred percent, Katie,' replied Demelza, passing the newspaper being read from over to her friend.

'I just _can't_ believe it. _Fudge Voted Stylish Wizard_. What a headline!'

'To be honest, I'd believe the _Prophet_.'

There was a brief, tense silence.

'Are you kidding, Leanne?' asked Katie, suddenly, incredulously. 'You'd really believe this piece of junk?' She held up the rather ragged paper with a look of disbelief.

'Well, I think it's taking the right side against that load of tosh Potter and Dumbledore came up with about You-Know-Who returning, just to kill a seventeen year old Hufflepuff! "Yeah, I go around killing muggleborns and powerful witches and wizards, but I've just decided that after fourteen years' absence I'll return and kill a random pureblood!" _Sure_.'

Katie looked murderous. 'Listen here, Meadowes. I've known Potter for years, and I don't know about you, but if _Dumbledore's_ siding with him, I couldn't care less what this thing says.' The newspaper was waved limply again. 'How the hell d'you explain Diggory's death in that case, anyway?'

'Oh, don't be ridiculous, Bell. He obviously was just killed by something really embarrassing like...like tripping and falling onto an acromantula pincer, or drank from some poisonous goblet in the maze or something, and his dad obviously couldn't take the shame, and - '

'So he _made up_ that _You-Know-Who killed him_?' interrupted Vicky Frobisher venomously from her window-seat. 'Don't be a dunderhead, Leanne. I'm with Katie on this one.'

'Well, my dad says there's nothing more true than the _Prophet_, and - '

'And he obviously isn't as clever as your mum. I'd've thought you'd be a little more sensitive on _this_ subject at least, Meadowes.'

There was another short silence.

'Say that again, McLaggen,' whispered Leanne dangerously, her hand inching towards the pocket of her ruby-red lined robes. Luckily this movement didn't go unnoticed.

'Oh, let's not fight, please?' sighed Katie, grabbing her friend's hand and pulling it aside, away from her wand. 'Cormac, apologise. _Now_.' (When he glared blankly past her.)

After a pause: 'Sorry, Leanne,' muttered Cormac McLaggen very begrudgingly.

The new break in conversation was on the verge of becoming awkward, just when the compartment door opened and a dark skinned seventh year fellow Gryffindor with her head haloed by black frizzy hair bounced in.

'Bell! Been looking for you all over. Long story short, I've been made Quidditch Captain, so I just thought I'd let you know team tryouts are next Saturday. Don't want you to miss them. Gotta run now, so I'll see you at the Sorting. Bye.'

Katie barely got in a "Congratulations, Angelina," before the recipient of the sentiments had left, closing the door behind her. 'Does she ever have a conversation at normal speed anymore?' the Chaser wondered aloud, earning a few chuckles from her counterparts.

'She may just rival Wood for pre-match team talks,' agreed Demelza, shaking her head with a look of pain on her face.

Thankfully, the new Quidditch Captain's intervention seemed to clear up the slightly malevolent atmosphere, and presently the banter from before returned.

However, more towards the back of the train, another compartment door was being opened to admit someone, too.

'What a waste of sodding time,' sneered Draco Malfoy, running a hand over the blond-white hair plastered to his head. He sat down opposite his two omnipresent friends, Crabbe and Goyle, and had his left hand immediately seized by Parkinson, her pug-like face looking admiringly at his pale, pinched one. 'They even made _Weasley_ and _Granger_ Prefects this year. Ruins the whole privilege. I find it quite offensive, actually, to be considered in the same vein as them. If my father only knew... At least we know there'll be changes this year...ones that hopefully will give dear _Prince Potter_ something more to think about other than his fans and feeding the family of his blood-traitor _pals_.'

'You're right as usual, Draco,' enthused Parkinson in her scratchy, high voice. She was even more detestable than normal, the blond thought.

Blaise Zabini smirked over at his friend. 'At least think of it this way, Draco - you'll be able to take points off them for anything you want. And when the..._ahem_..."changes" happen, your list of privileges will only increase.'

Malfoy returned Zabini's grin (although really both of their expressions were veering far more towards sneers) and unconsciously reached up to touch the shiny silver badge on his chest with a finger.

'Oh, yes. It'll be quite an entertaining year, I think.'

And not two hours later, the year (one just as interesting as Draco had said) would begin, quite literally, with a bang.

'_Uprising'_

'Firs' years this way!'

Rubeus Hagrid's voice boomed across the crowded platform, his chest and shoulders standing out starkly against the night sky above the students milling about, clad in house scarves and hats. Away from the commotion, though, a small group made its own way against the half-giant's directions towards the self-led carriages facing up the path towards castle.

'Where's Lex?' asked Simon, anxiously.

'Are you really asking that, Keitch? She and Wilke will catch up,' responded Luciana, shaking her head stiffly, and giving one very unsubtle glance and the dropping blind of the train compartment the group had just exited. Simon flushed deep red and Virginia giggled with her ubiquitous blonde-haired friend, Chloe Oldridge as they trudged towards the winding path up to the castle.

'I don't know how she does it,' wondered the latter witch, dreamily.

'I keep telling you, it _has_ to be her conditioner!' responded the former, eyes wide, a single finger pointing to her scalp. 'Boys dig good-smelling hair, I'm sure!'

'Why the hell are we friends with you two?' an exasperated Luciana asked icily, striding swiftly past on her stocky legs and quickly filling the last place on a carriage with four other sixth year Slytherins. Simon waited back, telling the two remaining - and still bickering over Alexis' relations with the other gender - witches that he'd catch the next trundling coach with them, and maybe Alexis and Callum, too (if they made it off the train before it departed for Kings' Cross once more).

It soon became apparent that waiting may take quite a lot longer than originally anticipated. So, pretty swiftly, the remaining Slytherins not on the train claimed a carriage and joined the long procession moving towards the school atop the cliffs far across the great, black, sparkling surface of the lake.

It was only shortly afterwards that the deserted platform's silence was broken. Just as cold autumn mist was beginning to drift along the still air, two teenagers emerged from the back end of the train, one male with dirty blond hair and one female with straight black hair just past her shoulders. The boy stumbled and laughed as if he were a little light-headed – this must have annoyed his haughty-looking companion, because she smacked the back of his head as she strode past towards the place where the carriages had been, smoothing down the left arm of her Slytherin robes.

'Hurry up, Wilke! The last one's just leaving!'

A mad dash later and the two jumped into the final carriage that was just slowly beginning to pull away. Leaning back in their seats, they caught their breath before glancing around to see who they were sharing with.

Oh _Merlin_, no.

Oh _God_, no.

Katie Bell had been one of the first off the Hogwarts Express.

However, she had also been one of the last to find a carriage up to the castle.

Hell, she had been _the_ last. All because stupid McLaggen forgot his broomstick in the overhead compartment and had to go running back to get it. Politely, she and the rest of the sixth year Gryffindors from her compartment had waited for him (although she would reflect that she wouldn't have made much complaint had the Express left with Cormac still on it). And this was how they all ended up crushed into the very last self-drawn carriage.

So it was a surprise when the small door slammed open as they began to leave, and two others clambered in, breathing heavily from chasing the departing coach.

Katie hadn't been the only one to stare when the two new additions had been recognised. Demelza had stopped dead, mouth hanging open rather comically, in the middle of an intense gossiping session with Vicky. Cormac was frozen, his face slowly changing from an expression of interest to one of cold anger. Katie's eyes, too hardened, as did the looks on every other member of the compartment, set frigidly on the two most unwelcome Slytherins.

It took a good few seconds before they noticed, even so, under such volatile circumstances.

'Merlin,' Alexis remarked, as soon as she took in the scene around herself and Callum. 'It's been a while, hasn't it, Bell?'

'If that's all you have to say for yourself, then you can get out of this coach right now and walk up to the castle. Either you sit there and shut up, or you _bugger off_.'

'Well _someone's_ polite today. Do you want to know how to spell swear words, Bell? I heard Peeves is rather accomplished,' mocked Alexis, earning an approving chuckle from her boyfriend (who didn't seem to notice that he had a blooming love bite on his neck or that his school jumper was inside-out).

Katie muttered several words even the school poltergeist would've been impressed by, and turned away from the Slytherins. Clearing her throat, she said loudly, 'So what was that about Eloise?'

Slowly, slowly, some kind of conversation began to return, excluding the two Slytherins, who sat opposite each other at the far end of the carriage. But Alexis was not one to like being left out of a good bit of gossip.

'I hear she's going to try to find a way to hex off her acne this year.'

The witch's interruption instantly reinstated the silent glaring match. But she carried on, unfazed, flicking a strand of loose hair behind her shoulder absently.

'Eloise Midgen, I mean.'

When no one responded instantly, Alexis switched her gaze to Callum's face.

'Er - yeah. I heard that, too,' he added, haltingly, having taken the not too subtle hint.

Katie opened her mouth as if to speak, but Leanne Meadowes was quicker.

'Fuck off, will you? Katie said to shut up, and that's what you're going to do, Kiely, or I'll hex you until _you_ _have_ acne. Got it?'

'Oh, please, don't _hex_ me, Meadowes!' the addressed Slytherin immediately quipped. 'I might just die of the embarrassment! I really am absolutely shitting myself.'

All of a sudden, Alexis was forced to appreciate the similarities between the carriage's interior and a small copse. With the small sticks of wood drawn and pointed directly at her, it was quite difficult not to see the striking parallel. Chuckling, she half smiled at Callum, raised her palms by her head and conceded, 'We can take a hint, you know - the whole Spanish Inquisition wasn't quite necessary. Honestly, can't even contribute to a Gryffindor _bitching_ _session_ without having your eye poked out these days...'

Shaking her head in faux disappointment, she dragged her boyfriend out of the moving coach, landing lightly on the side of the track that led round the edge of the lake up to the castle gates.

As soon as the noisy Gryffindors disappeared around the next bend, however, the half-joking snarky look on her face disappeared only to be instantly replaced with one of fury. Her azure eyes burned like ice-fire, moon and twinkling stars reflected in each orb, granting them a scary, almost life-like movement.

'She's going to pay for that,' whispered Alexis, murderously, glowering in the direction of the departed carriage with a homicidal look that was soon to become much more fitted to her face. 'Better hope your friends are watching your back, Meadowes.'

'What's a "Spanish Incision"?'asked Callum, blinking stupidly (and earning himself another smack on the head).

'_The Fear'_

The Great Hall was packed full. People chatted loudly, as if they hadn't just spent the majority of the day with their friends already, many house colours mixing as they dashed to the table of their friends to welcome them back and catch up with them after the summer. It had been an unusually long one.

The Gryffindor table, in particular, was very well observed. People craned necks and some even stood up to get a good look at now-even-more-famous Harry Potter, sitting deep in conversation with his ever-present friends, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley.

'Just look at him,' spat Draco, clenching and unclenching a single pale fist which rested on the table before him. 'Really thinks he's something, doesn't he?'

'Bet he's looking for that buffoon friend of his, Hagrid. Too bad. I'm guessing your father is responsible, eh, Draco? Finally got rid of him?' Blaise raised his eyebrows, turning to the shorter boy beside him.

'Hm...actually, no. The moron probably set fire to his shack or something,' grumbled the fifth year in reply. 'Maybe he died.' (A hopeful tone.)

Blaise shrugged. 'I thought if anyone would know, it'd either be you or Kiely. She seems to know all that goes on round here.'

Draco tried to look indifferent. 'What's the big deal anyway? It's just some thick half-breed we're talking about, isn't it?' But despite himself, he still glanced down the table for the familiar black hair of his fellow housemate. 'Where is Kiely, anyway?'

'Are you really asking that, Draco?' Blaise's eyebrows moved even further (thought it was nigh on impossible for them to do so) up his forehead. 'Where d'you _think_ she'd be?'

Alexis and Callum were the last into the Great Hall. They'd only noticed the rapidly approaching Sorting Ceremony by chance, when Callum's watch had come off his wrist and fallen as they made their slow way through the grounds towards the school. Having run the last two hundred metres or so of sloping pathway up to the stairs leading to the Entrance Hall, the pair located their friends in the mass of emerald robes on the far left, and slipped into the seats that had been saved for them.

'What kept you? That was a delay, even for _you_, Alexis,' sniped Luciana, leaning forward conspiratorially.

'I'll tell you later,' replied the witch in question, darkly.

'Oh, what happened? Contraception didn't work?'

'Shut up,' grumbled Alexis, much to the amusement of Luciana.

It was at this very moment that the final whispered conversations died out as a stern-looking witch passed down the central aisle of the hall, carrying a very old hat and a small three-legged stool. Behind her followed a long line of entirely black-robed students with young, nervous faces. The candlelight flitted across their faces in the near-silence, as McGonagall bent to put the stool down and placed the hat atop it.

There was a pause, where it seemed the entire school sat up a little straighter, waiting for that moment when the a rip at the brown fabric's brim opened wide, and burst into song with its croaky voice:

_In times of old when I was new  
>And Hogwarts was barely started<br>The founders of our noble school  
>Thought never to be parted:<br>United by a common goal,  
>They had the selfsame yearning,<br>To make the world's best magic school  
>And pass along their learning.<br>'Together we will build and teach!'  
>The four good friends decided<br>And never did they dream that they  
>Might some day be divided,<br>For were there such friends anywhere  
>As Slytherin and Gryffindor?<br>Unless it was the second pair  
>Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw?<br>So how could it have gone so wrong?  
>How could such friendships fail?<br>Why, I was there and so..._

Alexis leaned back, and whispered around her boyfriend to Simon, 'It's another one of those '_house unity_' ones, isn't it?'

'_Yawn_,' he agreed, but his eyes were still fixed on the frayed brown hat.

_These differences caused little strife  
>When they first came to light,<br>For each of the four founders had  
>A house in which they might<br>Take only those they wanted, so,  
>For instance, Slytherin<br>Took only pure-blood wizards  
>Of great cunning, just like him...<em>

'Looks like something went wrong along the way,' inserted the black-haired witch in an undertone once again to her friend, nodding at Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe, their thickset forms on either side of the pointed nose of Malfoy.

Several people in the nearby vicinity sniggered, while others (especially those from the neighbouring Ravenclaw table) hissed shushing signals at the silently laughing sixth years angrily.

_Now turned upon each other and,  
>Divided, sought to rule.<br>And for a while it seemed the school  
>Must meet an early end,<br>What with duelling and fighting  
>And the clash of friend on friend<br>And at last there came a morning  
>When old Slytherin departed...<em>

Muffled cheers came from some of the Slytherin groups at this.

'Good on him!' added Terence Higgs, nodding in approval of his house's founder's decision. 'They were just holding him back, anyway!'

_And now the Sorting Hat is here  
>And you all know the score:<br>I sort you into houses  
>Because that is what I'm for,<br>But this year I'll go further,  
>Listen closely to my song:<br>Though condemned I am to split you  
>Still I worry that it's wrong,<br>Though I must fulfil my duty  
>And must quarter every year<br>Still I wonder whether the Sorting  
>May not bring the end I fear.<br>Oh, know the perils, read the signs,  
>The warning history shows,<br>For our Hogwarts is in danger  
>From external, deadly foes<br>And we must unite inside her  
>Or we'll crumble from within<br>I have told you, I have warned you...  
>Let the Sorting now begin.<em>

Applause rang out across the Hall as the hat once more became still upon its diminutive podium, as people leaned together in groups to discuss the messages suddenly delivered rather unexpectedly by the bewitched Sorting Hat.

'House unity. I _told_ you,' Alexis nodded, smugly.

'Now, when's food?' moaned Virginia and Chloe in unison.

Then, the tall Deputy Headmistress called forth 'Abercrombie, Euan,' and the Sorting commenced. The usual (and quite unofficial) battle for the loudest cheers, too, had started, none of the four houses willing to relent and admit defeat to their fellows.

Eventually, the line came to its end, and as the Hufflepuff table's cheers died away, Dumbledore stood and permitted them to eat (a double groan of relief from Virginia and Chloe).

When, eventually, the last of the puddings disappeared from the golden plates, and students leaned back, hands on distended stomachs, blinking sleepily and contentedly, Dumbledore stood once again, and silence fell.

There were the usual start-of-term notices, and while most of the older students paid little attention to the reminders they had already heard many times, only a very few students heard a stumpy little pink-robed witch's simpering cough, or saw her stand and look at the Headmaster expectantly.

Draco elbowed Blaise in the side, interrupting his hushed conversation with the Slytherin beside him.

'Here we go,' muttered the blond, smirking.

'Thank you, Headmaster, for those kind words of welcome. Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say! And to see such happy little faces looking up at me!'

Going on in this way for a good few minutes, the end of her speech was received with a spattering of applause, which died out rather quickly.

'Potter looks like he's only just too eager to have his first lessons with Umbridge,' Alexis grinned at her friends, casually flicking her head in the direction of the marked boy. Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, sitting by their friend dutifully, seemed to be deep in a harried discussion. Granger looked particularly cranky, and Potter downright furious. 'He'll get what's coming to him, soon enough.'

Dumbledore finished off the slightly disrupted evening, and sent them off to their dorms for much needed sleep before the first few days of term ahead - ones that were always guaranteed to be eventful.


	3. Prophets

**A/N: **Welcome to Chapter 2. Please enjoy your stay. You may also want to buy a t-shirt. But of course, that is optional (and totally unnecessary). Sorry, it's not as long as I wanted, but hopefully it'll do.

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter is copyright the beautiful innards of Joanne Rowling's head. Unfortunately, I do not have much access to those beautiful innards, but Steve Vander Ark is helping me with everything a little. Finally, credit to LostProphets, Muse, the Goo Goo Dolls and Atreyu - the creativity in my brain owes you all one.

Reviews are Severus Snape washing his hair.

-Tuskface

Chapter 2: Prophets  
><span>_'Rooftops'  
><em>Sunday March 14th 1993.

Chloe Oldridge wasn't plain. She was tall, with long blonde hair and clear, pale blue eyes. She also had famous ancestry - what with her great-to-a-certain-number-of-degrees grandfather, Chauncey Oldridge (the first victim of the Dragon Pox).

However, these blatantly interesting facts about the Slytherin earned her nothing. And, of course, there was someone to blame for that.

You see, no one could be even remotely intriguing to anyone when they shared a dorm with Alexis Kiely. Unfortunately, Chloe hadn't realised this until now. And right now, she didn't look as appealing as her credentials might tell otherwise.

A knock came at the door.

'Bugger o - o - off,' choked out the witch, sniffing violently and dragging her sodden handkerchief across her puffy red eyes for about the millionth time.

'I'm going to blast this door down if you don't open it, Chloe. You're not sitting in there, drowning yourself forever, y'know. I won't let you.'

'I can do whatever I want!'

There was a sigh from the other side of the door, and a number of retreating footsteps. Chloe sat up straight, hand dropping to her sides on the emerald bedspread. Suddenly, she jumped up and cried, 'Fine, fine!'

Virginia entered with a sad smile on her face. 'Sorry, Chloe, but you _can't_ lock yourself up like this. People will have to sleep in here soon.' The blonde fell back onto the bed, curling up into a semi-foetal position; her friend perched on the four-poster opposite. Then she leaned in, and whispered, 'Besides, I don't want you to have to sleep outside in the Common Room. It's better you just clear things up with her now than leave it till tomorrow morning and an uncomfortable night on the sofa later.'

When her friend didn't respond, the second witch approached her and patted her shoulder, patiently.

'It's just - just - I thought - I thought she was - she wasn't like that,' mouthed Chloe. She blinked up at her friend.

'I know, I know. But...it's better to be her friend than her enemy, right? Especially if she's in your dorm.'

'I think it's just better if we don't get involved at all,' came the dejected response.

Virginia rolled her eyes, and tucked a strand of mousy hair behind her ear. 'Just go with the flow, Chloe.'

The pair smiled at each other, one encouragingly and one in a slightly watery manner.

Friday March 19th 1993.

'But she hasn't talked to me all week!' she wailed, throwing her arms up desperately. 'I just want to die!'

'She'll come round! Did you apologise?'

'Apologise for _what_?'

'I'll take that as a no, then.' Virginia plonked herself down on a deserted chair, rubbing her temples with tense fingertips.

'I didn't do anything wrong - it was her, I have no reason to - '

'Chloe! She doesn't think about that. This is _Alexis Kiely_ we're talking about here. She always wins the argument. You _have_ _to_ apologise. You're missing lessons, now. The finals are in a matter of months - you can't afford to do that!'

The other third year dropped down onto the chair next to her friend's. 'You're right. I just can't believe - of all people - I thought that she had some kind of knowledge of - y'know - good and bad - and how to speak nicely to people.'

'It was just an accident. She told me herself. She says she thinks you're overreacting and she wants an apology for that. That's all that she wants - then right back to normal.' Valmary smiled brightly and patted her friend on the back.

'_Muscle Museum'  
><em>Saturday October 16th1993.

Leaves blew about in a whirlwind of autumnal colours. They washed against the iron-grey sky as they were tossed up by the passing draft of the black carriage. Laughter and loud talking ghosted across the bleak October landscape after it, floating on the wind long after the self-drawn vehicle had turned the next corner on the winding path which led (haphazardly) down to the small wizarding village of Hogsmeade. It came to a stop, seemingly of its own accord just in view of the first houses, the doors creaking open. A group of students crowded out, all in green-lined robes, silver-and-emerald scarves and hats, and long black cloaks. They were chattering at an almost antisocial level, and seemed to be roughly in a circular formation.

It wasn't hard, then, to guess that there in the centre stood one certain black-haired witch, at a stature of around 5'5", which seemed far more imposing when coupled with her renowned attitude. As it so happened, at this very moment, Kiely raised one gloved hand and silence fell pretty sharply.

'_The_ _Three Broomsticks_?' she asked, and you could almost hear the boastful, self-assured smile in her voice.

There was a unified cheer, and the group moved off in the direction of the popular pub. The door swung shut behind the last pair of eager feet, and they found a few booths in the far right where outdoor clothes were being removed. The windows were steamed up against the frigid air, and the butterbeer was already flowing fast.

Alexis sat, crushed between her friend, Simon Keitch and new acquaintance, Emil Vaisey, sipping from a brown bottle and thoroughly enjoying being centre of attention. Luciana sat off to one side with a few fellows, in what appeared to be the middle of an intense drinking game (slash competition), while another couple of tables were filled with other Slytherins, gossiping and eating.

That was how it always was. The Slytherins sat separately; they had their own little corner, at odds with the blue, red and yellow alumni which occupied the rest of the place. Somehow, though, they were making enough noise in their isolation to even up the imbalance. So it explained why Vaisey had to shout as he leaned in towards Alexis.

'Let's get out of here for a while, yeah?'

Alexis glanced up at Vaisey, a Slytherin in her year.

'Where?' she yelled back.

He shrugged. 'It's just a bit too...stuffy in here.'

After a brief hesitation, she rolled her eyes and took a chance with the new friend. 'C'mon, then,' she muttered as he helped her out of her seat. As they got out of the pub's warmth, they ran across the road to a not-so-popular clothing store. As soon as the bell tinkled above their heads, and the dusty air entered their nostrils, they were approached by a store employee. Brushing him off quickly, Emil whispered, 'This way,' into his housemate's ear. Eventually, they got to the more empty side of the shop, quite a distance from the till and employee. One "No entry," door and a '_Colloportus_,' later, and they found themselves alone at last.

Thursday November 2nd 1995.

_Get rid of Vaisey. He's only a hindrance. Methodology is up to you, sweetheart. -H._

'Shit,' muttered Alexis. 'Thanks there, Harvey. _So_ helpful; as always.'

Tuesday September 4th 1990.

At first, it went completely unnoticed.

Who should care if a student got up from their table at breakfast time? No doubt they were just going to talk to a friend. And such an assumption would be correct, in this case. And given that it was a first year, it was probably someone they'd met on the train in - just sorted into a different house. Entirely plausible - completely ordinary. Right?

Wrong.

Katie had decided to forgive her. Her feelings had gone completely haywire that first day - hope and euphoria to betrayal and hurt. But she knew that she just couldn't stay angry at her forever. Besides, they couldn't all be as bad as the older Gryffindors said, could they? She knew her - they'd made friends on the train in, for goodness' sake! - Alexis Kiely wasn't one of _them_.

So, it was with almost all optimism returning to her from that first day that Katie stood from her place on her house table and walked across the hall.

At first, it went completely unnoticed.

'Miss Kiely, are you paying attention?'

Alexis blinked once or twice, and refocused on her small Charms professor. He stood, raised up to a normal height, on his pile of books, with his wand in the air in the middle of a demonstration. He raised his wispy eyebrows in her direction.

'Sorry, Professor Flitwick.'

'Well, it's quite alright, just - _do_ try to keep your eyes this way, please.'

But it soon became apparent (both to Alexis and to her teacher) that she wasn't concentrating despite the abrupt reminders constantly being dished out in her direction. Her eyes drifted off to the window, where they glazed over. She wasn't entirely sure what her emotions were doing. She was ecstatic - finally being at Hogwarts, the place she'd always dreamt of as a kid - but guilty, and sad, and angry. If only Katie had just let it drop! Maybe then everything would be good, maybe then her only feelings would be happy ones at being in the great castle.

Suddenly, there was a loud ringing in her ears, and she seemed to wake up from her dazed state to find her classmates packing away. She sat up, confused by the movement.

'Si, what's going on?' she asked bemusedly, grabbing her friend's sleeve.

'It's the bell, Lex. End of lessons for today! Come and join us for a game of gobstones in the Common Room...'

Putting the last of her lesson implements into her satchel, Alexis followed the still talking Simon out of the classroom into the corridors and down to the dungeons.

'You _forgive_ _me_?' Alexis asked, incredulous. 'Katie, I never did anything wrong!'

'Yes, you did! You chose Slytherin, didn't you?' The plucky young Gryffindor pushed away a Ravenclaw third year who was attempting to get her to leave the malevolent-looking green clad students. 'You could've chosen Gryffindor, but you chose Slytherin!'

'I never chose anything! I - I asked for - ' But Alexis realised the implications of what she was about to say just then. It would be a mistake, a terrible, terrible mistake to say that where she was seated now. 'I never did anything wrong. This is where I belonged, it's where the Sorting Hat put me, okay? If you can't deal with that, then leave well enough alone. I'm obviously not worth being your friend according to the colour of my tie.'

Katie's mouth opened and closed. She'd been so certain it was Alexis' fault from day one that she hadn't stopped to consider alternatives.

'Lex, listen - I - it wasn't you, it never was! It's just - just your - h - house - ' Katie seemed about to say something more, but it suddenly occurred to her what she'd just said. 'Look, we'll - er - talk about it later.'

'Will we? _When_, exactly?'

Katie had no answer, but she was definitely beginning to get very angry. Alexis had no right to act like this. She'd come over to do a good thing, and now - and now, _this_. So, instead of replying, she just huffed, and returned to the safety of Gryffindor table and the concerned voices of her new friends.

'_Iris'  
><em>Saturday October 31st 1992.

It was early evening, and the Halloween feast had just finished. Malfoy and his cronies were in a good mood - leaving the scene of the (rather over-dramatised, he thought) petrification of that old arse Filch's cat - because it seemed that Potter's "crew" were in lots of trouble.

'The day he gets expelled, I think I'll send Dumbledore a box of chocolates and Honeyduke's Finest,' he joked, earning some snorts of laughter from Vincent and Gregory, as they descended to the dungeon level of the castle.

'Salazar,' he said to a wall, confidently, as they stopped before it. The bricks shifted to reveal an archway, and they entered.

But then - there was a massive explosion. Draco jumped about a foot in the air, and Crabbe and Goyle ran for the dormitories, cowering. Glittering purple and green swear words soared around the Common Room, and orange pumpkins adorned almost every surface.

It only took a couple more seconds of observation before the blond second year realised that someone was throwing a Halloween party. The Weird Sisters was blasting from an old stereo ("Do the Hippogriff"), and there was a mass of bodies moving in time to the heavy beat. Draco began to push through the crowd, trying to find and congratulate the organiser, but it soon became apparent his efforts were futile - and either way, the originally anonymous person was about to be presented to him.

As Myron Wagtail led the band with,

_Wheel around and around and around and around...!_

the massive throng of students in their white shirts (some with ties around their foreheads), jumpers flung aside, lifted one girl above their heads as a group. At first she seemed a little taken aback by her sudden airborne state, but she quickly adjusted and posed for the group, who cheered and began to chant her name in time with the music.

'Ki - el - y, Ki - el - y, Ki - el - y!'

He looked up at the girl now being thrown and caught; knowing he'd heard her name before, but never having actually spoken to her. And then, as she did a spin in the air, the large sunglasses she'd been wearing fell off, and he saw her face.

And that was when the rest of the room disappeared.

Sunday February 22nd 1998.

Draco Malfoy could remember clearly the time he first saw Alexis Kiely. Or at least, the first time he truly saw her. She'd been smiling, with her enigmatic navy eyes, laughing with her charming voice. She had been dynamic and impulsive, and _perfect_.

She wasn't anything like that now. In fact, he could barely recognise her. Her black hair was cropped short, and the circles under her eyes were more like bruises than sleepless nights. There was a long cut along one cheekbone which had swollen and seemed to be in the first stages of infection. He clothes were torn and dirty. Three of the fingers on her left hand were severely broken - they probably wouldn't set right when they healed. Her skin and flesh were so thin, the scars on her left wrist stood up like a line of thick white rope.

She slept fitfully.

So did Draco.

'_Storm to Pass'  
><em>Friday September 1st 1995.

Alexis stood from the Slytherin table, instantly having her arm linked to Callum's as he, too, left for the dorms. They passed Malfoy, who stood just as Alexis went by, as if he was going to say something, but the moment had gone as quickly as it had presented itself.

So, rather than standing looking stupid, Draco grabbed the robes of Goyle and hauled him up, smacking Crabbe's thickset shoulder to indicate for him to do the same.

'What's the plan for tonight then, _Your Highness_?' asked Luciana petulantly, as she caught up with the rest of her friends. 'Surely not a party on the first night back?'

'No, no... Not that it'd be too much for me, of course. But I think it's just unnecessary - there's always something interesting happening on the first day of the year. And since Potter didn't arrive by thestral or something this year, it could well be Slytherin's year.' She smiled mischievously.

'So you have something planned, eh?' asked Simon, playfully punching Alexis on the shoulder.

'Oh, no - of course not! We'll just...play it by ear,' winked the witch.

Laughing, the rest of the sixth year Slytherins (as well as a few other years, tagging along) struggled through the Entrance Hall, pushing against the Gryffindors as they crossed each others' paths to get to the dungeons. After a couple of minutes, they decided there was just too much traffic and held back, waiting for everyone to leave.

The Entrance Hall emptied surprisingly quickly. It took a couple more minutes before the last of the house prefects' barking voices died out, and the castle fell silent from where they were.

'Wait,' whispered Alexis as they began to descend the dungeon stairs. 'In here.'

She grabbed their uniforms and dragged Simon and Callum into a dark recess around the wall (Luciana followed, haughtily). They all pressed up against the wall as the witch breathed, 'The teachers'll be coming - what d'you think they'll be talking about, eh?' Comprehension dawned on the wizards' faces, but the other witch just rolled her eyes as if she was quite bored by the idea. It took a short while before their plan produced anything.

'Oh, no, I just - dropped my bag - I'll make my - _hic_ - way! No, no, Minerva - I'll be quite - _hic_ - alright!'

'Sybill, you are not "_hic_" alright! Here, let me help you.'

Three of the four secret listeners stuffed fists in their mouths to stop their laughter from being heard (it was becoming gradually obvious to them that Luciana didn't want to be there, and was not going to be participating in their fun).

'No - you - you go ahead - _hic_,' insisted the Divination Professor.

'Fine - fine. On your head be it, Sybill. But don't let Dolores catch you.' Her voice sounded very thin, and the sixth year could imagine that her lips probably were the same, as they always went when she was angry or irritated.

There were a couple of other small conversations about their fellows, or even students, as the different teachers made their ways to their offices. After ten minutes or so, the four Slytherins thought it must be safe to come out of their hiding place and laugh in the open space just outside the entrance to the dungeon staircase. As they stumbled to said spot, though, it became evident that they had been wrong very suddenly.

'You four!' cried a trembling, affected voice. They all turned and found Sybill Trelawney a mere ten metres away, with one finger pointing at them, her eyes magnified by her ridiculous glasses, and her shawls nearly falling off. She tottered to one side, but managed to regain her balance (just). Even from where they were positioned, they could smell a strong stench of sherry.

'You four,' she said much more quietly, taking a few more teetering steps forward, until the smell was almost making them gag. 'What are you - I - which one - ?' Alexis was readying herself to talk to the teacher, and get her to return to her office in the top of the North Tower, and to make any necessary excuses.

'Professor, we were just making our way to bed - surely you should be doing the same?

'...Professor?'

The snake waved a hand in front of Trelawney's face, as she had just frozen, fixing her spooky glare dead on Alexis.

'Profes - '

'_Fates are intertwined...of two born in the latter half dark things will become...there will be a betrayal...beware the crooked wand - it always snaps! The servant is twisted...no faith - afraid of the darkness...the missions are dire and will not succeed...those with power shall fall and the Dark lord shall rise again!'_

The Professor was breathing hard, her voice broken from the harsh, monotonous way she'd just spoken. Then, she seemed to shake herself, and focus back on the young sixth years before her.

'Yes - yes, I am rather tired. I should be - getting along to - to bed now. Goodnight...goodnight...' and she tripped up the marble steps towards her office and sleeping quarters. However the four students were stock still where she'd left them.

Slowly, slowly, they turned to look at each other.

'Okay, what the _fuck_ was that?' asked Luciana, sharply.

Draco was sitting in the Common Room, with Blaise by his side. They were playing a game of wizard's chess alone, in a dark corner of the large, open room. By the fire sat some seventh years, poring over a copy of the _Prophet_. Most of the youngest students had already gone to bed.

Sighing heavily through his teeth: 'Rook to E4.'

Blaise smiled as he sent his Queen to take Draco's small castle-shaped piece. When his piece had finished with it, she threw the rook onto a gradually growing pile of black casualties.

'Ugh, I give up,' Draco relented, angrily flicking his King over, and earning himself a nasty glare from his chess set, one beaten one even saying in a tiny, furious little voice: 'So all _this_ was for nothing?'

As he leaned back and stretched in his green armchair, Draco noticed the door to the room open, and four sixth years traipse in. Luciana Duncan, with her dark brown hair and grey-black eyes looked like her normal bitchy self, Alexis Kiely looked defiant, Simon Keitch looked shaken, and Callum Wilke appeared to have wet his pants (or at least looked frightened enough to be about to).

'Kiely!' greeted Draco, spreading his arms wide in welcome as he stood.

'Get lost, Malfoy.'

'But, Alexis, I just finished my game of chess with Blaise! Perhaps you'd like to - ?'

'I don't play chess, Malfoy, now _bugger off_.'

'Actually, I wasn't going to ask if you wanted to play,' he responded instantly.

'Oh?' Alexis faked interest as she went to a tapestry in the far corner. She muttered something under her breath to it and the sour-faced man in the embroidered fabric nodded, and walked out of the edge of the image.

'No, I was going to ask if you'd like to go on a date with me.'

'I think we both know the answer is - as always - go fuck yourself, Malfoy.' The witch smiled sweetly, just as the tapestry's main character returned and pointed to the right. Alexis thanked him, and went to the cabinet which had previously been empty. Muttering '_Alohomora_,' she opened it and withdrew four glasses and a bottle of Ogden's Firewhiskey.

But Malfoy wasn't giving up. He swaggered over to her. 'But baby,' he said, smoothly, 'that'd just be no fun! Not without you there, anyway.'

'Listen, you're sick and much too young for me, Malfoy. Go run back to your little cronies.'

'What d'you mean, _young_? You dated Blaise two years ago, and Zacharias Smith, also in my year.'

'Yeah, but I was talking about mental age. Now c'mon you lot, let's leave him to cry on his friend's shoulder. And I think we all need some of this.' (Waving the sloshing bottle of alcohol.)

And without further ado, she led her three friends up to the dorms.

Five minutes later: 'I'm going to bed,' muttered Malfoy, throwing his already battered brand new chess set into the fire and storming away from his friend, who sighed, finished packing up his own pieces, and followed.

The Common Room was bustling as usual. The red hangings and jolly fire gave it a strange kind of warmth, and the happy chatter did help with the friendly atmosphere. It was one of the few places where Harry Potter could just walk through without instilling silence in his wake.

Katie smiled as her teammate passed by on his way to the dorms. Fred and George came back from where they had just pinned an advertisement for something concerning the Joke Shop they wanted to open.

'Alright, Katie?' Fred asked, as his dropped onto a sofa beside Angelina Johnson.

'Yeah, how was your holiday?' George added, folding up his long legs as he sat down on the floor between the Quidditch Captain and the addressed witch's seats.

'Good thanks, guys. And you?'

They shrugged in unison.

'So what's that notice all about?' she asked the two seventh years, quizzically.

'Ah - may we introduce to you - '

' - The beginnings of some of our greater inventions.'

'Shall we read it to you?'

Most people would get confused by the twins' habit of finishing one another's sentences, or acting as if they were one and the same person. But Katie had known the pair since her first day (when they'd run into her compartment on the train with Lee Jordan close behind and sang "God Rest Ye, Merry Hippogriffs" in perfect harmony) and this helped a great deal. She was accustomed to their quirks.

'Since you put it like that.' She nodded, smiling almost as broadly as the pair.

George cleared his throat.

'_Gallons of Galleons_!' announced Fred, in a sing-song voice.

George jumped up and pretended to slick back his ginger hair, before pointing at Katie and raising an eyebrow. '_Pocket money failing to keep pace with your outgoings_?'

'_Like to earn a little extra gold_?' Fred rubbed his thumb and forefinger together to Angelina.

Then, together: '_Contact Fred_ - ' Fred pointed to George, '_and George_ - ' George pointed to Fred, '_Weasley_ - ' they both switched the way they were pointing, linking arms in the process.

'_Gryffindor Common Room_...'

'..._For simple_...'

'..._Part-time_...'

'..._Virtually painless jobs_!'

Then Fred leaned in and put one hand to the side of his mouth, and whispered with wide eyes, '_We regret that all work is undertaken at applicant's own risk_.' They then burst into song while dancing together (it sounded somewhat like a livened-up version of an old Celestina Warbeck song).

When finished, the twins lined up together and bowed. Angelina and Katie clapped, with a few who had been watching from the back of the room joining in.

'So, what d'you think?' George asked, as they resumed their previous seating arrangement.

'It sounds great, but I'm afraid I'm a little busy for that kind of work,' winked Katie.

Angelina opened her mouth to answer the question, too, but another noise distracted her.

'He's having a go at my mother!'

The four sixth and seventh years looked at each other, concern in each of their faces. There was a brief pause, and then:

'That's before she started believing every word the stinking _Daily Prophet_ writes about me!'

'Harry,' muttered Fred. He looked at the staircase up to the boys' dormitories.

'That means Ron'll be involved, too,' nodded George. The twins exchanged a long glance, before they both seemed to come to a silent agreement. 'You're right,' sighed George.

'Better not to get involved,' concurred Fred.

'What's going on?' asked Katie.

Angelina sighed. 'Harry's arguing. With Seamus, I suppose?'

'From that accent, I'd say so,' Fred said.

'Well, they're arguing because Seamus' mum reads - and believes, evidently - the _Daily Prophet_. And you know the kind of dung it's been writing about Harry over the summer. And Seamus is obviously just...explaining this situation to Harry.'

'Not very tactfully,' added George.

Katie nodded, understanding now.

'D'you think they'll - y'know - sort it out?'

The three seventh years sitting around her shrugged.

'Maybe, maybe not. '

'D'you think it was a joke?' breathed Callum.

'Don't be thick - Trelawney isn't exactly a skilled actress.'

The Slytherin nodded grimly, and swigged from his glass.

'She looked like she'd been...hexed,' Simon contributed.

Alexis looked at him. It was a significant glance.

'No,' she said, so quietly her companions only just caught it. 'No, she wasn't...hexed. Maybe she was just - just possessed?'

Simon shook his head slowly. 'Not if she wasn't - hexed.'

There was a silence. Alexis finished her glass and leaned her head back against the wall, eyes closed.


End file.
